


Not supposed to be

by Seraph_Novak



Series: Destiel Soulmate AU [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Comforting Castiel, Complete, Dean is confused, Emotionally Repressed, Falling In Love, Lust, M/M, Teenage Castiel/Teenage Dean Winchester, The world is black and white, until you meet your soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 13:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6986605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraph_Novak/pseuds/Seraph_Novak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"His traitorous eyes flicked down to Cas' mouth at that thought and he froze, breath hitching in the back of his throat because</i> there it was again <i>– that weird not-grey like he'd seen the day he'd met Cas, smothered all over his lips."</i></p><p>In a world of grey, Dean finds colour in the most unlikely of places. Part 2/3. <b>- I suggest reading the rest of the series first, or you'll be confused.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Not supposed to be

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! Second part's up! I should warn you that Cas and Dean will continue to grow throughout the series, so sorry to anyone who was hoping for a kid fic all the way. Please leave kudos and/or comments if you can! I really appreciate it ♥

"So, I'm thinking lilac for my dress. Maybe turquoise. Or would that be too much, do you think? Like, maybe a light blue with that silver necklace you got me last year… You know, the one with the heart and the little – Dean? Dean, are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?"

Lisa swatted his arm and sighed, "Are you trying to get yourself dumped or what?"

"Sorry, babe," He closed his locker with a groan, turning around to face his pissed-off girlfriend before she unleashed her wrath on him, "I'm just, uh… Headache, ya know. Frickin' thing's been buggin' me all day."

"You want some aspirin?"

"Nah, I'm good," He waved her off, "Let's just get to class, yeah?"

Lisa smiled sweetly and leaned into his side, prompting Dean to wrap his arm around her waist. She smelled like berries, her hair felt like silk, and Dean was probably the luckiest guy at school. Only, he didn't really feel that way all the time, especially when the warmth of Lisa's body pressing against his own hardly made him twitch. He knew he was ungrateful not to appreciate a girl like her more, but something was always nagging at him nowadays – a suspicious feeling that he was holding the wrong person close.

"What were you sayin' about the, uh… the dress thingy?"

Lisa snorted, "Dress thingy? Oh, Dean. You're such a boy sometimes."

"Well, that's a relief, considering…"

"Yeah, yeah," She smiled, "I was _saying_ about colours to wear for the dance."

Dean stiffened for a moment, covering the minor slip-up with a cough as they walked into English lit. and took their seats; he didn't understand the new trend of wearing specific colours when everything was just _grey_ to them, but that was girls for ya - always obsessing over their outfits.  "Uh, dance?"

"The Christmas dance," Lisa said tiredly, as if she'd already suspected that Dean had forgotten, "I can't believe you sometimes."

"Sorry…"

"Just – it doesn't matter, okay? I just thought you'd wanna go with me."

"Of course I do," He sighed, looping an arm around her shoulders the way he did to Cas sometimes and… Wait, why did he just think that? "Tell me about the dress."

Lisa narrowed her eyes for a second before letting go. She went on and on about colours and materials and hairstyles and makeup and – well, basically, a bunch of girly crap that Dean couldn't care less about, really. His focus was more on Meg Masters two rows ahead; she kept leaning into Cas' ear and whispering something, then giggling like an idiot. It was frickin' annoying.

"Quiet down, you two."

"Thank god…" Dean muttered, grateful to the teacher for putting that bitch Meg in her place. He didn't know why he hated the girl so much, but there was just something about her that he couldn't stand. Especially when she was tormenting poor Cas for no goddamn reason.

"You okay?" Lisa whispered, flitting her gaze between Meg and Cas for a moment before turning her large, dark eyes on him. She had nice eyes, he thought, so why did it feel like something was missing every time they looked at him?

"I'm fine," He snapped, frustrated with himself for being so frickin' confused all the time, "Why does it even matter what colour you wear, Lis? The world's nothin' but grey, anyway!"

She pulled back, hurt flashing behind her gaze, "C'mon, baby…"

"Just stop goin' on about lilac and turquoise, like we even know the difference, alright? You're hurting my head for Christ's sake!"

"Dean, it's just a bit of fun. Is it a crime to want to look pretty for a dance, now?"

"Colours have nothin' to do with _pretty_ , Lis!" He hissed, "Colours are just… They're just a fairy-tale, okay? You think one day you're gonna meet the love of your life and it's all just gonna, what? Fall into place? Well, sorry, sweetheart, but that ain't how the world works!"

Dean saw the slap coming before he even felt it – white hot pain striking against his cheek, followed by the shocked silence of the class as Lisa withdrew her hand, breathing heavily. He wanted to apologize, but it would have felt wooden and false. Truth was, maybe hurting Lisa was the only way to escape her – Lisa, and all the confusion he felt inside for not wanting her like he was supposed to want girls, even those her weren't his soulmate.

Before the teacher could say a word, he fled the classroom, head ducked in shame as he ran for the parking lot, hoping to jump into his baby and disappear.  

"Dean," He turned around. It was Cas; it was always Cas, "Dean, what's wrong?"

"Leave me alone, Cas."

"What did you say to Lisa? Did you have a fight?"

"I said _leave me alone,_ goddamit!" He growled, marching forward through the snow to get to his baby.

Footsteps crunched behind him and a hand suddenly spun him around, face-to-face with an angry-looking Cas. "Talk to me, Dean," He urged, "Please."

"It's got nothin' to do with you, alright? So just – just _please_ go away, man."

"You think I'm gonna let you drive in this state?" Cas almost scoffed, fingers digging into his shoulder with a vengeance, "I thought you liked Lisa."

"I did! I _do_ ," Dean swallowed thickly and shoved Cas' hand away, "But what's the point?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, c'mon! I mean, if she's not even my _soulmate_ , what's the point in actin' all lovey-dovey with her?"

Cas frowned, "That's never mattered to you before."

"Okay, so now it does!"

"Why?"

"I dunno!" He threw his hands in the air, "I mean, doesn't it bother you? Meg's not your soulmate, but you still –"

"Meg and I are friends, Dean. How many times –?"

"Yeah, right," He snorted, "Well, what about that Hannah chick, huh? One you're takin' the dance, right? Is she your _soulmate_ all of a sudden?"

Cas gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring the way they did when he was really mad (and Dean hated himself for knowing all of the guy's little quirks). "If I remember correctly, _Dean,_ you were the one who set me up with Hannah in the first place! I never wanted to; I don't care about that sort of thing and you _know_ it!"

"What, you don't care about girls?" He dared to ask, taking a step forward, "Or sex? Don't you wanna have sex with Hannah? Or Meg? Or, I dunno – _anyone_? Cos that's what boys _do_ , Cas! That's what they want!"

Cas closed in on him, chests touching and breath mingling in the frosty air, "I don't care about girls anymore, Dean. Or soulmates."

"Then what do you care about, huh? Anything?"

Cas' eyes widened for a split second, mouth pulled into a tight line as he stared up at Dean. He had a couple of inches on the guy, but they were practically the same height; if he'd leaned forward right then, their noses would have brushed, their lips might have touched…

His traitorous eyes flicked down to Cas' mouth at that thought and he froze, breath hitching in the back of his throat because _there it was again_ – that weird not-grey like he'd seen the day he'd met Cas, smothered all over his lips. They were bright, and they looked soft, and he wanted – oh, he _wanted_ – to touch them with his own mouth!

_What the hell was wrong with him?_

Cas dropped his gaze to the hollow of Dean's throat, mouth slightly agape as the snow continued to fall around them. It was catching in his hair, clinging to the curl of his lashes, melting off the warm glow of his cheeks and oh _god,_ Dean wanted him so bad! How could he deny it anymore? It didn't make sense, but it was there!

"Dean…"

The gravel of Cas' voice snapped him back into action and he pulled away – sharply. He couldn't want his best friend in that way because it was _wrong._ He didn't like boys, and Cas wasn't his soulmate, so it wasn't supposed to be. Surely, it wasn't supposed to be.

"I can't…" He breathed, slowly backing away to his car, "That's not… I-I like Lisa. I _know_ I do! I _have_ to Cas, don't you understand?!"

Cas barely flinched, "Okay, Dean."

"What? Don't you even care?"

"I'm not allowed to care," Cas said bluntly, reaching forward to take Dean's hand with a soft, knowing kind of smile, "Not yet. Not for you, Dean. But I'm patient."

Dean felt the cold press of something against his palm, and Cas folded his fingers over it, patting the top of his hand gently.

"What are you –?"

"I've been carrying it around for a while now," Cas shrugged, "I know you don't like big surprises, but think of it as an early Christmas gift."

Dean tightened his fist around the object and glanced at Cas' lips. They were normal grey again, and he suddenly missed the foreign tint he'd wanted to kiss just moments ago.

"You're not a freak, Dean. Remember that," Cas breathed in deeply, "And I will always be there for you. Waiting."

When he looked up again, Cas was gone, and his clothes were soaked-through with snow. He wanted to scream at the tiny falling bundles of frost around him – like he used to – but his limbs felt heavy and weak.

With a haggard sigh, he opened his fist and peered down. There was a ring in his hand. It looked like any other bog-standard ring, only it was more than that. He picked it up carefully between his fingers and turned it over, inspecting the shiny band of silver (well, it was probably silver) and stopped, almost dropping it to the ground.

There, in the centre of the ring, was a tiny stone – minuscule, barely noticeable. But it shined like the sun and glinted off the frosty glow of the white-covered world around him. It was the most beautiful shade of not-grey he'd ever seen (not that he'd seen much of that sort of thing before) and somewhere, deep inside himself, he knew. He'd seen that same shade before, dancing like starlight across his best friend's face, boring into his frickin' soul every time Cas looked his way.

It was blue.

 

 


End file.
